First Impressions
by Maddy Lake Deep
Summary: It's never easy when you move and meet new friends. My version of what it was like when Frodo met Samwise Gamgee for the first time. No slash. Response to a challenge on the yahoo group, MagicalShire Fanfiction. Please R&R! COMPLETE
1. From Brandy Hall to Bag End

_**Author's note: This story is written in response to a challenge on the yahoo group, Magical Shire Fanfiction.**_

****

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the LotR characters or anything in Middle-earth. They obviously belong to the brilliant J.R.R. Tolkien

**Rating:** G

**Category:** Drama, hurt/comfort

**Summary:** It's never easy when you move and meet new friends. My version of what is was like when Frodo met Samwise Gamgee for the first time.

First Impressions

By

_Maddy Lake Deep_

**Chapter one:** _**From Brandy Hall to Bag End**_

"Well, this is it…Bag End," Frodo Baggins heard his Uncle Bilbo say while standing inside the parlor.

Bilbo shut the door behind them. They stood beside one another for a moment and when Frodo glanced at his uncle, he saw Bilbo's arched eyebrows that told him, 'hope-you-like-it-here?'

Frodo smiled. "It already feels like home," he said and wondered if his uncle believed him.

Bilbo returned the smile, a cheery one it was and then he lightly patted Frodo's shoulder. "Come, my lad, you need to see more; and while you unpack your things, I'll cook a hearty meal."

Frodo had gone with Bilbo on the grand tour of his new home. Next stop was the kitchen and after touring through more tunnels, the final stop was Frodo's spacious bedroom embraced within light of the early spring sun. And as crimson rays fell upon the furniture, so did Frodo's water-blue eyes. They took in everything from the quaint oak wood desk beneath a round window to the huge closet nearby the bed where he would now sleep.

"It's beautiful, uncle."

"I made sure it was kept nice and tidy before your arrival. You must be famished and so I'm off now to cook the meal."

And as Bilbo headed to the door…

"Uncle?"

Bilbo turned, standing near the circle. "Yes?"

"Thank you."

Bilbo walked back to Frodo and gave him a warm, reassuring hug. He then left his nephew alone in the room. Frodo stared at his luggage that had already been set near the closet and then he slumped down on the comfy edge of his bed. He missed his cousins, Merry and Pippin, though they promised to visit him often. Still, it seemed strange to be away from them and he could not help but reminisce the days they had fun together. Frodo's eyes meandered around the room again.

Peering over his shoulder at the window, he rose onto his furry feet and headed toward the half open window. There he stood and pensively watched Bilbo's backyard; lost in thought about the Sackville-Bagginses giving him a loathing eye during his journey to Bag End. While riding in the cart, he hoped not to see them and there they were.

Other hobbits also gave him a look, some curious, some friendly, and the other look Frodo knew very well: He's outlandish and cracked, just like his Uncle Bilbo.

"_Will I like it here?"_ he said to himself, sighing deeply. _"Well, I ought to unpack before the meal is done."_

After Frodo unpacked everything, he joined Bilbo at the kitchen table. Since leaving Brandy Hall, his stomach begged relentlessly for food and while Bilbo rambled, Frodo savored the roast chicken and mushrooms.

"Tomorrow will be a beautiful day," said Bilbo cheerily.

"What have you planned for tomorrow?"

"Lunch with Master Hamfast and his son, Samwise."

Hesitating to eat a piece of chicken pronged on the fork, he looked up at Bilbo. "Oh? I thought you meant we were having a picnic together."

"There will be plenty of days for a picnic, Frodo. I told Master Hamfast you were coming to live with me and he wants to meet you. I've known him for quite some time. Once he tended my garden but now he's much too old. Sam will take the job. He's a good lad, Samwise…you'll like him."

Frodo smiled a little. He wanted to meet Master Hamfast and his son. It should be fun, meeting new people. After all, he couldn't spend his time with only Uncle Bilbo. Frodo needed to venture out and mingle with other hobbits of Bag End and Bagshot Row. Again, he mumbled to himself, _"What if they think I'm queer? Frodo Baggins, they must already know. Gossip travels fast and I am certain it hasn't missed the ears of Master Hamfast. What am I to do?"_

"Frodo?"

Bilbo's voice jolted him out of his deep thoughts. "Yes?"

"Are you all right?"

Frodo nodded while resting his fork back onto the plate.

"I know you miss Brandy Hall," said Bilbo. "Pay no attention to the Sackville-Bagginses. This is your home, though right now it may not feel like it. The Gamgees are good folk, and they want to welcome you."

Bilbo gave Frodo another one of his warm, reassuring smiles, and then the gentle hobbit accepted it graciously.

* * *

Frodo's eyes fluttered open. Still groggy from a pleasant slumber, he squinted at his surroundings. At first it seemed he was back at his room in Brandy Hall, but when he senses were fully alert, they showed him a different place—Bilbo's smial at Bag End. He lifted his head a little from the fluffy pillow. March sunlight greeted him, pouring in through the window and onto his bed. Frodo welcomed its warmth with a smile and then he mentally pushed himself to think positive thoughts about meeting the Gamgees.

_Everything will be all right. Like Bilbo said, the Gamgees are good folk. We will have a wonderful time!_

At mid-day, Frodo helped his uncle set the table laden with loaves of freshly baked bread, a light chicken stew with potatoes, seed cakes and tea.

"There," said Bilbo, "it's all set. They ought to be here any moment now."

Frodo listened nervously for the doorbell. When he heard it, his heart suddenly leaped and pounded against his chest.

"Come," Bilbo insisted and Frodo reluctantly followed his uncle to the door.

The doorbell rang a few more and then several times, which annoyed Bilbo. "Half a moment!" he shouted and frowned.

Frodo noted his baffled expression. "Uncle? Are you sure it's Master Hamfast?"

Bilbo stood at the circle, listening. He then replied to Frodo in a whisper. "I have a feeling--,"

"Bilbo Baggins!"

Bilbo cringed at the irritating voice of Lobelia Sackville-Baggins. Again, he whispered, "I knew it, I knew it!"

Frodo said, "Can't we pretend we're not home?"

"Knowing her ears, I am certain she heard me say, half a minute." Bilbo sighed fretfully and yanked open the door. There stood Lobelia and her husband, Otho. Bilbo greeted them with a smile far from genuine. "Good-day, Lobelia…and Otho."

"Good-day, Bilbo," said Lobelia, grinning shrewdly while Otho only acknowledged Bilbo's greeting with a nod. And when she saw that Frodo hadn't uttered a word, Lobeila shot an irate glance at him. "That isn't nice at all. Here we've come all this way to welcome your nephew and he just stands there."

Fuming, the young Baggins wished his uncle had shut the door in their faces, but he knew that would be very improper. Having no choice in the matter, he forced himself to be cordial. "I am sorry. It's a pleasure meeting you both."

Lobelia ignored him. Instead, her ravenous eyes stalked the tunneled parlor.

Bilbo grew even more annoyed. "I thank you for coming all this way to welcome my nephew. He is my heir. Yes, when I am gone, everything you see here will be his."

"I am not deaf, Bilbo," she retorted. "You've already told us the news."

"Oh? Ah, yes, I remember now. Good heavens! I've been so forgetful. I hope it doesn't happen again. You must be tired of hearing me say my home isn't for sale, and that Frodo is my heir."

Lobelia huffed. "Come along, Otho!" They marched down the steps.

"Good-day!" said Bilbo and after shutting the door, he collapsed against it and let out a relieved sigh.

"Uncle, did she really expect us to believe she came all this way to welcome me?"

"Lobelia knows better," answered Bilbo. He straightened himself and stood in front of his nephew. "She's very persistent and will say or do anything to be nosy." He shook his head while heading back inside the kitchen.

Frodo lagged behind. Feeling suddenly uneasy about the lunch, he plopped down in the chair.

Concerned about his nephew, Bilbo also took a seat at the table. "Remember what I've told you…pay no mind to those Sackville-Bagginses. They want you to feel unwelcome here. When the Gamgees come, we'll have a delightful time!"

Frodo's face brightened; a smile raised his pink cheeks. And then the doorbell started his heart racing again.

Bilbo jumped up from the chair. "It must be them."

Frodo followed him into the parlor. This time, he hoped Bilbo was right.

"Who is it?" Bilbo asked carefully.

"Ham Gamgee."

Bilbo eagerly opened the door, greeting father and son with a beaming smile. "Good-day, Master Hamfast and Samwise!"

"Good-day!" said a cheerful Hamfast.

Bilbo shut the door behind them and hurried back to Frodo's side. "This is my nephew, Frodo."

"Hullo!" said Hamfast warmly. "We're very pleased to meet you. And this is my son, Samwise."

Frodo stared at the stout hobbit who eyed him nervously. Was he nervous or giving him one of those wary looks? Frodo could not tell and found himself getting agitated by the silence until Sam finally uttered a faint…

"Hullo."

_**TBC**_

****

**A/N: Sorry this is very short but I want to focus on their lunch in the next chapter. Let me know what you think!**


	2. Lunch with the Gamgees

_**A/N:** Thank you for the reviews! You guys are the best! Here's the next two chapters._

* * *

_**Frodo stared at the stout hobbit who eyed him nervously. Was he nervous or giving him one of those wary looks? Frodo could not tell and found himself agitated by the silence until Sam finally uttered a faint…**_

**"_Hullo."_**

* * *

**Chapter two:** _Lunch with the Gamgees _

Frodo made sure he didn't just 'stand there' like Lobelia had said and greeted Sam with a pleasant smile. "Hullo," he replied.

After the awkward introduction, a relieved Frodo Baggins sat at the table beside his uncle. Hamfast had been the one babbling while they ate heartily.

"What do you think of Bag End?" Master Gamgee asked Frodo.

"I like it," he answered, giving Bilbo a quick glance. "I'm happy to be here." Frodo gave another brief glance, this time at Sam who seemed to be very preoccupied with eating his stew.

Hamfast continued. "For a long time I tended your uncle's garden. But, I'm old now and my bones ache, too stiff to be doing anymore garden work. Sam will do the tending now."

Those words tugged Sam's attention away from his soup. He looked up at his father and then he mentally shoved himself to make eye contact with Frodo. "I asked your Uncle Bilbo and he said it's all right. I hope you don't mind, Mr. Frodo, sir."

"Hmm?" said Frodo, taken aback for a moment at Sam calling him 'Sir' what he wasn't used to hearing from anyone.

"The garden," Sam repeated. "Hope you don't mind?"

"No, not at all."

"I can take a look at it now if you like?"

"Of course," Bilbo cut in gratefully.

After Sam left the table, Bilbo eyed his nephew with a hint to follow the gardener.

"Excuse me," Frodo told them politely. He headed toward the open door and when he had gone outside, he hesitated at the top of the steps. His arms crossed behind the chestnut vest he wore. Frodo watched in silence while Sam studied the lifeless garden like the professional he was.

"I'll start working on it right away, planting seeds and all. Soon it'll be time for the flowers to bloom," Sam said eagerly. "I'll start tomorrow if you like?"

"Tomorrow will be fine." Frodo thanked him with a warm smile. He then folded his arms across his chest and despite standing in the sun; he shivered a little from the late March chill. It would have been too cool for a picnic. Again, his mind wandered, thinking, _"I wonder if Sam would like to go on a picnic one day? No, I cannot ask. He's too busy with gardening and he must have other friends he would rather spend time with."_

Sam trotted back up to the smial and then he stopped a few steps down from where Frodo stood. He had to think of something to start another conversation. "Your Uncle Bilbo is a good cook. I love chicken stew, and roast chicken."

"He told me you're a good cook, too."

Sam's cheeks turned a quick shade of deep red. He was never comfortable with accepting compliments, especially from a Baggins. Struggling with what to say next, the gardener uttered, "Mr. Bilbo is very kind."

"It sounds to me like you don't believe my uncle, that you really are a good cook."

"Well--," Sam paused timidly. He shrugged his shoulders and peeked down at the steps.

"I bet you can cook a delicious roast chicken."

"I'll try." Sam looked up, squinting from sunlight in his eyes. "One day, Mr. Frodo. One day."

A faint smile crossed Frodo's lips and then he nodded.

Sam said, "We ought to go inside before we catch a cold, and before my Gaffer wonders why we're not back yet."

Frodo followed him back into the hole where they feasted more of Bilbo's delectable lunch.

* * *

Evening came quickly. The Gamgees thanked Bilbo and Frodo for the lunch. It had been time to leave and during their trip down to Bagshot Row, Hamfast noticed his son was strangely quiet as they walked. 

"Sam? Come now, lad, what's troubling you?"

"It's Mr. Frodo. I don't think he wants me tending the garden. Mr. Bilbo, I know he doesn't mind, but--,"

The Gaffer halted beside his son. "Samwise, that's nonsense. Why would Mr. Frodo not want you working in the garden? I don't think he's like that at all. Mr. Frodo, from what his uncle told me, and now that I've met him, is a nice gentle hobbit, very much like Mr. Bilbo. You'll see things differently once you get to know him better."

Sam nodded and yet unconvinced by what Hamfast said. Nevertheless, he strolled alongside his father as they continued onward to their home.

Frodo picked up the last wet plate. With a cloth he wiped it in a circular motion until the plate was good and dry, and then Frodo placed it inside the pantry. After the kitchen had been cleaned up, he sauntered into the parlor where Bilbo sat in his favorite chair near the hearth. Frodo sat down in the other chair and warmed by an inviting fire beneath the mantle. He watched Bilbo puffing on his pipe and blowing out smoke-rings.

Bilbo stopped puffing for a moment and said, "Well, Frodo, what do you think of Master Hamfast and Sam?"

"They're good folk, like you said, uncle." Frodo rested his chin upon the heel of his hand, looking as if he pondered something. "I believe Sam will do a wonderful job with the garden, but I'm not so sure he--,"

"Likes you?" said Bilbo, leaning over the armrest and gazing steadily into Frodo's eyes. "That's what you're trying to say, isn't it?"

Frodo shrugged his shoulders and unsure of what to think about the gardener.

"Sam can be a bit shy at times and he's respectable, more than I can say for some of the folk in hobbiton. Give it time, Frodo. He's a good lad."

* * *

During the next morning, Frodo peeked out the window. He watched Sam scurrying about and planting numerous seeds. The question he wanted to answer had persisted despite his reluctance… 

"_Sam, when you're done, do you want to go for a walk?"_

Frodo pushed aside his fears of what Sam thought of him and stepped out into the garden.

"Good morning, Mr. Frodo!" said Sam on his knees and covering a few seeds with dirt.

"Good morning, Sam." Frodo looked around the garden, and though there had been only shrubs with bare branches (some began to come alive with a few buds on them), he imagined all sorts of flowers: Red, pink and white roses, lilies, daisies and orchids blooming bright and cheerful. "It's going to be beautiful! The garden I mean."

Sam paused for a moment. He was surprised at Frodo's excitement or rather, his acceptance of him working on the garden. "I promised Mr. Bilbo I'll do my best."

"I know you will, Sam," and just as he mustered courage to ask the question, he faltered when Sam looked up at him anxiously.

"Mr. Frodo, uh, do you want to go to the Green Dragon tonight?"

Shocked, Frodo's eyes brightened and with a wide grin on his face he answered, "I would love to go!"

_**TBC**_


	3. A night at the Green Dragon

**_A/N: This chapter is rated PG. I know I ratedthis story'G' at first but sometimes the muse goes in a different direction during the middle of a story._**

**Chapter three:** _A night at the Green Dragon_

Frodo and Sam headed toward the Green Dragon Inn on a chilly evening. Their gray cloaks kept them warm. Bright stars were clearly seen in the indigo sky, and shining down upon the two hobbits was a full moon greeting them with its brilliance unwavering. They strode inside the inn packed with boisterous hobbits, drinking hobbits and those who danced and sang.

While Sam searched for a table, Frodo walked alongside him. At the same time, he hadn't overlooked the nosy hobbits and their eyes darting toward his way. He sighed inwardly and wished the folk didn't make it so obvious about him being 'Bilbo's-nephew-who-just-moved-in-to-Bag End.'

"Here's a table," said Sam and they sat nearby the wall.

Frodo watched the gardener as he peered around the crowd; every now and then, his eyes glanced shyly at the barmaid serving mugs of ale.

"Who is she?"

"Huh? Oh--," Sam started and embarrassed Frodo noticed what he was doing. "That's Rosie Cotton."

Rosie spotted them and ambled her way through the crowd.

Sam whispered, "Here she comes!"

Miss Cotton stopped by their table, holding a tray in both hands and smiling amiably at the two hobbits. "Hullo, Sam!"

"Hullo, Rosie," he answered shyly. "Oh, this is Mr. Frodo, Bilbo's nephew."

"Hullo, Mr. Frodo," she shouted above the noise.

Frodo stood politely from the chair. "It's a pleasure meeting you, Miss Cotton."

And when Frodo sat down, Sam said to Rosie, "We'll have two pints."

The gentle hobbit watched Rosie leave the table, then his attention skirted back to Sam. He had a feeling his gardener was very fond of Rosie, but Frodo carefully avoided talking about her. He dared not make awkward matters such as this one any worse.

While waiting for their ale, Sam decided to say something. "Mr. Bilbo told me you have two cousins."

"Yes, Merry Brandybuck and Peregrin Took." Frodo thought it odd that Sam seemed to be shielding the left side of his face with his hand. _"Oh no, he's ashamed to be with me. I knew it. What is it Samwise Gamgee, are you concerned about what the others think? I'm sure they gossiped to you about me. Please, I hope it isn't true…I need a friend."_

"Are you all right, Mr. Frodo?"

"Yes, I'm—I'm fine." Frodo shook his head and suddenly troubled. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

Distracted, Frodo peeked over Sam's shoulder at the table behind them. There sat four hobbits and it seemed a ruckus was starting to brew. He glanced back at Sam.

"Forget it. It's nothing."

"Mr. Frodo, there's somethin' on your mind."

"Well, I was thinking…did Uncle Bilbo tell you about his adventure?"

Sam's hazel eyes were wide and his lips fell at hearing the word 'adventure' "He told me many tales about his adventure!" Sam's eyes widened even more. "He talked about the elves, sir."

At that moment, Rosie stopped by again with the tray. She grabbed hold of one mug, setting it down in front of Sam, and then she took the other and did the same for Frodo. She gave them another endearing smile and walked away.

Sam picked up his mug and as the rim touched his lips, he hesitated. The commotion behind him grew worse. Among the four young and drunk hobbits, two argued.

"Sam," said Frodo. "We ought to sit at another table."

The gardener nodded agreeably but before he could search for another table, the two hobbits behind him leapt up from their seats. By now the argument was clearly heated and caught the attention of others sitting nearby. The hobbit closest to Sam had stumbled backward, bumping against his chair. Annoyed, Samwise jumped onto his feet and whirled around. "Hey!" he yelled. But the quarreling hobbits ignored him. The one who bumped into Sam quickly ducked an oncoming fist. Instead, it struck the gardener with such force that he had no time to do anything. He spun, fell and hit his head with a thud against the edge of the table.

Screams bellowed from many lasses and among the screams another voice was heard.

"Sam!" Frodo knelt over the gardener. Blood peeked from beneath Sam's golden curls and snaked down the side of his face.

A dazed Samwise searched for the gentle hobbit and when he saw Frodo kneeling over him, he whispered, "Mr. Fro--," the rest of what he wanted to say had been silenced by unconsciousness.

Frightened and stunned at what he never expected, again Frodo shouted, "Sam!"

_**TBC **_

****

**A/N: _I apologize for these short chapters but I felt it was better this way instead of writing it all in one chapter. The next one is coming very soon._**


	4. Number 3 Bagshot Row

**Shire hobbit:** Big thanks to you! I wondered when I would ever write another LotR fic and your challenge encouraged me to write again!

**Katana-Babe and Ancalima:** I'm always thankful for your reviews and for your wonderful friendship!

**Kabuki733701:** You'll see what happens next, and thank you for reading my story!

**Anawey:** What you said about friendship and learning to understand the differences made a lot of sense. Thank you! I'm glad you liked the story and I hope you enjoy the final chapter :-D

* * *

**Chapter four: **Number _3_ Bagshot Row

Frodo bounded from the cart along with two elder hobbits who knew the Gamgees. He met them at the inn and they offered their hospitality by carrying an unconscious Sam toward Bagshot Row. The Gaffer raced outside his home and frantic when he saw his son had been injured.

"Take him to the bedroom," he said quickly to the elder hobbits and when Hamfast scurried through the parlor, Frodo was beside him. "What happened?"

"There was a fight at the inn," said Frodo breathlessly.

"A fight? Who did Sam get into trouble with?"

Frodo shook his head. Catching his breath for a moment, he went on. "The fight had nothing to do with Sam. It was between two hobbits sitting behind us. It got out of hand and one of them struck Sam. He fell down and hit his head."

"How can that happen if Sam hadn't been involved?"

"It was an accident."

The Gaffer hurried down one of the tunneled halls, leaving a sad and helpless Frodo behind. He moped back inside the dim-lit parlor and slumped down on one of the chairs. There he sat and waited.

Two hours had passed, but Frodo continued to wait while the doctor visited Number _3_ Bagshot Row. Suddenly his ears perked when hearing voices coming inside the parlor.

"Thank you," Hamfast said gratefully to the doctor who nodded, biding him and Frodo farewell.

Frodo nodded back and after the doctor had gone, Mr. Baggins rose from where he sat and hastened over to Hamfast. "Will Sam be all right? I want to see him."

The Gaffer drew in a deep breath and sighed. "His wound is mended, but he hasn't awakened yet. Thank you for getting him home, Mr. Frodo. The best thing you can do is go home and get your rest. Come back tomorrow, you can see him then."

_**Come back tomorrow, you can see him then.**_

The Gaffer's last words echoed relentlessly in Frodo's mind as he lay in bed. He gazed at the bedroom window, staring out into darkness. His thoughts refused to rest.

_**Tomorrow…will it ever come? The night seems to go on and on.**_

After hours of worry along with tossing and turning, Frodo finally surrendered to sleep that closed his tired eyes.

* * *

Morning…it seemed to delay its arrival until Frodo's eyes snapped open. He sprang from the pillow; his legs swung over the edge of the bed.

"Sam," he whispered.

Frodo quickly dressed into his white shirt and breeches. He hardly touched his breakfast. All Frodo thought of was Sam and raced down to Bagshot Row. Hamfast allowed an eager Frodo inside.

"He woke during the night," said the Gaffer. "He's sleeping again but you can see him."

Frodo strolled down one of the tunnels. Stopping at Sam's door, he opened it and eased inside the sunny and airy room. A chair had been set near the bed. Frodo sat down, staring at Sam tucked beneath white linens. A cloth firmly bandaged around his head. He appeared to be sleeping peacefully, and then Frodo leaned closer.

"Sam? Sam, can you hear me?"

The gardener laid still, not even a flutter of his eyes.

With another effort, Frodo called a notch louder. "Sam?"

Silence.

Frodo feared he was still unconscious, which alarmed him greatly. Keeping worried eyes on Sam, he began with what had been on his mind. "Do you know what happened to my parents, Sam? With all the gossip, I am sure you know but I need to talk about it. They drowned in the Brandywine River and I never thought I could be close to anyone after losing them. Sometimes I'm afraid if I get close to someone, I'll lose them like what happened to my parents. That's how I felt when we met. When were at the inn, I wondered why you were hiding your face. So when you asked if I was all right, I was lost in thought about you not liking me. I felt you were ashamed because of my Uncle Bilbo and his adventure. Most think he and I are quite odd."

Frodo paused to breath deeply, then he continued. "I wish I had the courage to tell you this before, but--,"

Sam's eyes fluttered open.

"Sam!"

The gardener carefully turned his head toward Frodo and managed a weak smile. "Mr. Frodo."

Ecstatic, Frodo replied, "You're awake."

"My Gaffer told me what you've done. And he said somethin' else, you were very worried about me."

"Of course I was worried!"

"You know, Mr. Frodo, here I was, thinkin' you didn't like me because I'm your gardener and you're a Baggins. And when I was hiding my face, well, that was the only way I could stop myself from lookin' at Rosie."

"And I'm thinking you didn't like me because--," Frodo raised his eyebrows and it suddenly dawned on him, "You were listening!"

"I heard you call me. It sounded so far away, but it got louder and then I was awake."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Frodo. I wanted to listen and, well, what you said, I was glad to hear it. I don't mean I'm glad about what happened to your parents and all. I mean, you went out of your way to share it with me…that says a lot, Mr. Frodo."

Frodo smiled warmly and placed a comforting hand upon Sam's shoulder. "I'm happy you're feeling better, and I don't have to say you're merely a gardener. How does this sound…yes, I know Samwise Gamgee. He works in my Uncle Bilbo's garden. A good lad he is, Sam, my friend."

A huge grin stretched across Sam's face, and when Frodo gazed into his eyes, he had a feeling his new friendship with the Gaffer's son would be more than just any friendship. _"There's something special about Sam,"_ he thought, _"Something special indeed."_

_**The End**_


End file.
